


Something You Want

by MarzgaPerez



Category: God’s Own Country (2017)
Genre: Cavity inducing fluff perhaps, Christmas Fluff, Family Feels, G&J are my OTP - so glad they are already a pair, Gift Giving, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 05:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17074556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez
Summary: John aims to come up with something really special for Gheorghe’s Christmas presents.





	Something You Want

Gheorghe was in front of the stove, concentrating on the amount of spices he was adding to his sauce.

“I’m back!” John called out as he slammed the front door, shucking his coat off and tossing it over a chair. He paused in the doorway of the kitchen.

“I heard.” Gheorghe turned to offer him a smile. “How did it go?”

John shrugged. “It was a’right. I survived. You woulda done better.”

He walked over to Gheorghe and encircled his arms around his waist, resting his chin on Gheorghe’s shoulder. “Smells good.”

Gheorghe leaned back into John. “Dinner will be ready soon. You can tell us more about your day.”

“And the others?”

“Deirdre took your dad out with the neighbor for an errand. She said he needed to get out for a bit.”

“An errand, you say?” John pushed at Gheorghe’s shirt collar with his lips until he made contact with the soft skin behind his ears. “Let’s fool around then.”

Gheorghe chuckled softly, warming to his touch. John had been more affectionate lately—maybe it had something to do with Christmas nearing and him being in the holiday spirit. Or maybe he was more relaxed because they’d turned a small profit over the last few months.

Whatever the cause, Gheorghe was pleased, but he knew there wasn’t time for what John wanted to do. “Better if we wait.“ He tried to let him down in a gentle tone. “I need to finish this.”

“Suit yourself,” John huffed and grazed his teeth over Gheorghe’s ear lobe. “Probably needs more salt.”

He stepped into the next room before Gheorghe could reply and pilfered through the mail strewn on the table. John remembered he needed to let Gheorghe know about something.

“By the way, there’s a package on the stoop. Has your name on it.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. Didn’t want to touch it. Looks like it might be a gift for someone…”

Gheorghe joined him by the table, wiping his hands with a dish towel. “Can you mind the stove? I need to put the package in the barn. No snooping.”

“Who me? I haven’t got time to be nosin’ around.” John rolled his eyes, smirking as Gheorghe went out the front door.

He watched through the window as Gheorghe lifted the cardboard box in his arms and sprinted over to the barn. _I wonder what he’s got in there._ John already figured out that Gheorghe had ordered something for him on-line. In a house this small, it was hard to keep much of anything a secret.

At Christmastime, John didn’t usually care much about presents, but he did fancy certain aspects of the holidays. Most years, they would chop down a small tree and sing old carols while they decorated it. On Christmas Day, Nan would prepare one of the biggest meals they’d eat all year. And this year, she’d have help from Gheorghe,  _whether she liked it or not_ , John mused.

Also this year, John was no longer dreading the gift-giving aspect of the holiday, all thanks to his recent trek into town. His old schoolmate Robyn and her mum had asked him to bring a couple of sheep to the local grade school and share a thing or two about sheep farming with the children.

John had begged and begged Gheorghe to handle it—or to at least go with him—but he’d been too shy. Ordinarily, if John was faced with something he dreaded, he’d throw back a pint or two. That hadn’t been an option.

So, he’d gritted his teeth and loaded a few of their more mild-mannered ewes into the truck, along with some feed and hay. Gheorghe tied bright red Christmas bows around the ewes necks but that was the most he was willing to contribute. _Maybe next time,_  he’d said, _when my English is better_.

John mosied down the road and into town to the small school building where he had once been a pupil. Fortunately, his former teachers were all retired and not around to torture him with stories of his school-boy mischief.

It was after he’d let the children pet the sheep and ask their questions about where they sleep and how much they eat that one of the young lads brought up Father Christmas and what he was going to ask for. He told the other children that his mum and dad promised he’d receive four presents:

_Something you want_

_Something you need_

_Something to wear_

_Something to read_

And then it hit John—he’d do the same thing for Gheorghe. It seemed like an interesting challenge. He knew Gheorghe would appreciate the effort, much more so than last year’s back massage coupon, scrawled on a piece of torn notebook paper.

He could knock out the first three categories by getting Gheorghe a new pair of thermal underwear. That raggedly pair he’d schlepped around in since coming to the farm wasn’t even keeping him warm any longer.

 _No, no,_ John thought to himself. _That should only count for something to wear. I can’t half-ass this._

John snapped to attention when he realized that Gheorghe’s sauce was boiling angrily. He raced over to the stove before it bubbled over the sides.

“Shite!” He’d lifted the pot by its handles, not thinking about how hot they were, and almost dropped the entire pot onto the floor. John turned around to the sight of Gheorghe entering the kitchen with a concerned look.

“Let me.” Gheorghe had rushed over to his side, picked up a towel and moved the pot to an unlit burner.

John was doubled over, trying to mask his pain. “Did the sauce burn?”

“No, it’s fine.” Gheorghe was less worried about the sauce and more focused on getting John to the sink to rinse his hands in cold water. “But you. Looks like you got burned.”

“Maybe.”

John was distracted from his pain, watching Gheorghe move swiftly to care for him. He seemed to enjoy nursing John back to health—whether it be making consumé when he was coming down with a cold or tending to his usual scrapes and bruises. He ought to get Gheorghe a first aid kit as one of his Christmas gifts, except that was more something that John needed, seeing as how clumsy he was. Or _careless_ , as Nan would say.

Gheorghe had rolled up his sleeves and was holding John’s wrists under the spicket. “Keep your hands here. Five minutes.”

“Yes, doc.” John managed a grin as he watched Gheorghe push his sleeves back down around his bare wrists. He remembered a conversation they’d had about watches. Gheorghe didn’t like to wear one for fear he’d snag it on something.

But as responsible as Gheorghe was, especially compared to John, he did come in late sometimes from the pastures—lost in his work or sometimes sky gazing—and not realizing that Nan had supper waiting.

A pocket watch. _Something he needs._

John must have looked pretty satisfied with himself, standing there like a dope with water running over his throbbing hands. Gheorghe cocked his head to the side and stared at him suspiciously.

“What are you thinking about?”

John shrugged and tried to hide a smile that was creeping onto his lips. “Nowt.”

<><><><><><><><><><>

John was having trouble falling back asleep. He’d gotten up to help Dad to the loo, and for some reason, he couldn’t quite get comfortable. Maybe it was the heat radiating off of Gheorghe’s skin. He didn’t mind it on most nights, especially if the window was open. But he’d compromised for Gheorghe that evening—there was talk of snow—and kept the window shut.

Before climbing back into bed, John peered out the window looking for falling snowflakes. There were none. He figured it wouldn’t snow—Nan’s arthritis hadn’t been acting up like it usually did.

Now that he was wide awake, John decided he might as well try to come up with something for Gheorghe’s last present. They were still a week out from Christmas, but John was struggling with one of the gift categories. _Something you want._

The _something to read_ gift came to him a few days ago when he was in town with Nan. He’d told her that he had some holiday shopping to take care of while she was at the market. It was his chance to pick up something for her and Martin too.

At the clothing store, John bought the pair of thermals for Gheorghe and a new scarf for Dad. In Murray’s Thrift Shop, he found a used pocket watch for Gheorghe and looked around for something Nan might like. Finding nothing that caught his eye, John started back to the market to help Nan load the groceries into the truck.

On his way back, he noticed a new place of sorts with baked goods and kitchenware and the store window decorated all fancy for Christmas. There were white twinkling lights surrounding the window with a table set for six and plates of raisin scones, sugar-dusted ginger cookies, and various fruit pies. John spotted a ceramic pie plate in a dark lavender color that Nan might like, so he went inside for a closer look. Upon opening the door, he was met with a delicious aroma that reminded him of earlier Christmases.

John was hit with memories from his childhood—the piles of cookies and sweets his mum would bake for the holidays. She’d let him mix the batter, and he was always the first one to taste her concoctions after they’d come out of the oven.

After she’d left the farm for good, that tradition was no longer sustainable. Nan just didn’t have the time for baking more than a pie or two.

John supposed he should feel saddened by the sudden wave of nostalgia, but certain memories of his mother felt like they belonged to someone else, a boy that he barely remembered. Growing up on the farm had taught him to focus on what was in front of him and not behind.

Heading towards the register to purchase the pie plate, John laid eyes upon a shelf of cookbooks. There was a medium sized one with traditional English holiday desserts. He grabbed a copy for Gheorghe, knowing he’d been wanting to learn how to make proper English dishes. Maybe they could try a recipe or two together.

With three of the gifts settled on, now John had to consider what would Gheorghe really _want_? There were things they’d talked about doing in the future—taking a trip to Romania, for instance. And there were ongoing conversations about their future together. But John had already swore up and down he would not propose nor accept a proposal on any major holiday.

If he asked Gheorghe what he wanted, he’d either suggest something practical—like slippers—or he’d say that he already had everything he could ever want.

John got up once more to check for snow. He was careful not to disturb a slumbering Gheorghe, so peaceful and lovely, all snuggled up against the blankets. John turned to the window and noticed the hint of daylight hovering over the hills. An idea occurred to him for Gheorghe’s final gift. He’d need to get Nan and Dad in on it.

<><><><><><><><><><>

John pressed his foot harder against the truck’s worn pedal, anxious to get back to the house.

“Slow down, lad. We can’t have a holiday if you get us killed.” He could see Nan in the rear view mirror gripping the door and bracing for bumps in the road. “And Dad…”

John looked over at his father, who was seated in the passenger side, seeming equally uncomfortable. “Sorry. I’m just thinking, you know, about the gifts...for Gheorghe....”

It wasn’t always easy to read Martin’s expression, but John sensed he understood. John also slowed his speed.

His dad never was one to make a fuss at Christmastime or to buy John much in the way of gifts. Martin’s tradition was to accompany Nan to the early Christmas Mass. He required John to attend as well, when he was younger.

This year, John had actually sat through the Mass instead of dropping them off out front, as he had done in recent years. Nan had been pleased by this gesture, knowing that John was putting aside his indifference towards the Church to be supportive of her holiday rituals.

After all, Nan had been gracious about letting Gheorghe work on dinner while they were gone. Of course, when they got back to the farm, Nan went immediately inside to check on Gheorghe’s progress. She’d ask him to prep the potatoes, roasted vegetables, and yeast rolls. Under no circumstances was he to tamper with her turkey or pies.

John wheeled his dad inside and got him settled in front of the television. Their Christmas tree was right next to it, and the number of gifts underneath the tree had grown compared to previous years.

John could hear Nan giving Gheorghe instructions about this and that. Though Gheorghe seemed to be receptive to her orders, John decided to intervene. He passed by the nicely set table on his way to the kitchen.

“Hey, you two. Let’s open a few presents before we eat. How ‘bout it?”

Gheorghe looked up from the bowl of potatoes he was seasoning and gave John a welcome smile.

Nan waved her hand, dismissing his suggestion. “You’ve waited this long, what’s another hour or two?”

John had squeezed his way into the kitchen and was standing next to Gheorghe, purposely nudging his arm to keep him from stirring the potatoes. Gheorghe shot him a stern look but relented, resting the spoon against the bowl and finding John’s hand.

“Nan, we ought to have opened the gifts in the morning, but the beasts needed tending to.” John felt like a six year old boy, pleading his case on Christmas morning.

“Aye, and now us humans need something in our bellies.”

“Nan…”

Gheorghe remained quiet as he did on most occasions when there was disagreement between the Saxbys.

Finally, she relented, sighing and puffing her cheeks out in frustration. “Alright. But just you boys. Dad and I will open ours after dinner.”

“Thanks!” John gripped Gheorghe’s hand and led them to the sitting room, knowing that Nan would soon follow. He took a seat on the floor in front of the tree.

Before Gheorghe joined him, he stopped to pat Martin lightly on the back. “Good evening, Martin. How was the service?”

Martin’s eyes darted from John and then to Gheorghe. “Music...t’was...beautiful.”

“Very good. Maybe I will go with you next time.”

Martin nodded slowly as Gheorghe sat down next to John, who seemed to be filled with nervous excitement, the way he was rocking back and forth. Gheorghe wasn’t sure why John was so eager to open presents, though he’d been hinting for a few days bout how much Gheorghe was going to like his gifts.

“Nan! You comin’?” John called out.

They could hear her shuffling between the rooms. “I’m here. Got the rest of our dinner in the oven.” She found a seat next to Martin. “Who’s first?”

Gheorghe waited for John to speak up since he was so adamant about opening gifts before dinner. But he was quiet now, picking at the skin on his thumb and staring back at him.

“Okay. “I’ll go.” Gheorghe reached for John’s gift, a nice sized box that he’d wrapped carefully with red and white stripped paper. “Besides, John already knows about my gift.”

John laughed and relaxed his shoulders. “Aye, but I don’t know what it is.” He had been so anxious about Gheorghe’s reaction to his own gift that he’d forgotten about the present for him.

“I hope you like it.”

John tore into the paper and lifted the lid off the sturdy white box. Beneath the tissue paper was a navy jacket of sorts. He held it up for everyone to see and realized it was a vest, not a jacket, and a high quality one.

“Thanks, Gheorghe. It's nice.” John leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“You understand? I got you the vest for the cold.” Gheorghe watched his expression carefully, hoping that he truly did like the gift. “It will keep you warm. But not too warm.” He smiled and held John’s hand.

“I’ll use it tonight when we do our last check.”

Nan chimed in. “If anyone can convince you to dress warm, it’s Gheorghe. Very thoughtful gift.” Martin also nodded his head approvingly.

John placed the vest back in the box and set it back under the tree, turning his attention to Gheorghe’s gifts, a neatly stacked pile of four boxes in varying sizes wrapped in plain brown paper.

“Ready for yours?”

“Sure.” Gheorghe nodded slowly, curious about what John had up his sleeve.

John lifted the pile of gifts and placed them in front of Gheorghe. He cleared his throat.

“So, you remember when I went to talk to the school children a few weeks ago?”

“Yes, they sent you the thank-you note. And the drawings of the sheep.”

“Right. And while I was there, they gave me an idea, like, for your gift.” John recited the rhyme he’d learned from the young boy.

“ _Something_ _you want,_

_Something you need,_

_Something to wear,_

_Something to read.”_

Gheorghe smiled at the sing-songy nature in John’s voice. “This is very nice.” He was impressed by the gesture, even without knowing what was inside the boxes. “Thank you.”

“We’ll save the _summat you want_ for last. It’s from all of us.”

“Alright.” Gheorghe began opening the other three gifts. First the box with the pocket watch, and Gheorghe knew right away why the gift was something he needed. “It’s perfect. And this will make Nan happy, no?”

“Aye. Maybe you’ll be on time for supper for once.” Nan reached down and patted Gheorghe’s shoulder. “Truth is, meals aren’t the same unless everyone’s at the table.”

Next was the thermal underwear. Gheorghe laughed as he pulled his _something to wear_ gift from the tissue paper. “I’ll use these on top of my green ones,” which elicited a groan from John.

“You can toss them other ones, is more like it.”

Gheorghe shook his head. “No, they have brought me luck over the years.” He reached out to stroke John’s cheek lightly. “Now I will be extra warm. Thank you.”

John beamed and handed him the next gift, which Gheorghe opened gleefully.

“This one is _something to read?_ ” He thumbed through the pages of the cookbook, landing on a recipe and furrowing his brow at the instructions. “I’m not sure what this means. I have to _fold_ the egg?”

“I can help. Or better Nan.”

“Aye. But seems like John picked this gift out so you can fill his belly with good food.” She chuckled.

“I am happy to cook for all of you. Or I am happy to try.” Gheorghe was happy that he had earned Nan’s trust in the kitchen.

“Well, that brings us to the final gift...from us Saxbys.” John handed Gheorghe the last present. It was the size of a shirt box but very light weight.

Gheorghe took his time, slowly peeling off the paper, curious about the contents inside. He could sense that everyone in the room was awaiting his reaction. He opened the lid to reveal a multi-page document with some kind of official-looking seal. He tried reading the words on the first page but was having trouble understanding what the gift actually was.

“I’m sorry, but...what is it?” Gheorghe held up the papers, turning to John to help him understand.

“Nan told me I should have taken a picture.”

“A picture of...what?”

John moved closer to Gheorghe, taking the documents from his hand so that he could weave his fingers into Gheorghe’s.

“I don’t understand most of this jargon myself, but what we want to give you…” Jon paused and looked into his eyes. “It’s some acreage from our pastures. It’s land that’ll be in your name.”

Gheorghe still seemed confused, his eyebrows slightly raised, so John continued. “You can farm it—I’ll help you—or get your own herd for milking or sell the land and buy more equipment towards your cheese making. Whatever you want. It’s yours.”

Now Gheorghe seemed to realize what they were giving him. His lips trembling, he protested. “No. Thank you, but I can’t accept this. I don’t want you to think I am here for—“

“No one thinks that, lad.” Nan was speaking for Martin too. “You’re part of our family now.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s too much. I haven’t done anything to—"

“First...wait til you see it. Needs a lot of tending, Gheorghe. But it’s yours. Take it. Me and Nan and Dad talked it over.” John held onto Gheorghe‘s hand tighter. “I know it’s not a ring, like, for us to wed. But it is a promise to provide for you, like you provide for us. And you want to make this place better…”

John noticed that Gheorghe had tears in his eyes. How could he make him see that there was only pure love behind their gift? John had worried that maybe it was too much, too soon. And perhaps he had focused more on what he wanted to give Gheorghe, not realizing the awkward position they were putting him in.

“You are gracious. Too gracious. I don’t know what to say. Or how I can…”

John pressed his lips tenderly on Gheorghe’s lips. “Happy Christmas. You can think about it. Alright?”

Gheorghe nodded. “I will do that.” He smiled gratefully at Nan and Martin and then turned to John. “Thank you.”

It was just a minute or two later before the timer went off for their Christmas feast. Everyone took their places around the dinner table and enjoyed a hearty meal. They talked about lighter things—how John had never believed in Father Christmas but was gracious enough not to spoil it for other children. Gheorghe shared memories of Christmas with his family in Romania and the traditional dishes his mother would prepare. His favorite was, of course, a sweet bread, called _cozonaci_.

Nan mused that she might have to make it for him sometime, but that she had at least baked a proper dessert to satisfy his sweet tooth. As they opened the rest of the Christmas gifts, she served them mince pie and hot cocoa.

After clearing the dishes, John slipped on his new vest, and he and Gheorghe went out to the barn to check on the cows. Once they were safely out of sight from the house, Gheorghe pressed John against the inner wall of the barn and indulged him in a long and satisfying kiss. He pulled back to look into John’s eyes, his hands cupping his face, his lips on the verge of telling John how he’d make him proud, how he’d give everything he ever earned from the land back to the family. Besides, it was really their land anyway, since he and John would be married one day.

Instead, Gheorghe sucked in his breath and smiled. “What I want to know is...how did you get such a big gift inside such a small box?”

John put his hands on top of Gheorghe’s and guided them tenderly onto his shoulders. “Don’t you know already? I’d give you the world if you’d take it from me.”

Gheorghe pressed his cheek against John’s and whispered in his ear. “I think you already did.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this and might be willing to write something for this collection. 
> 
> Fanfiction is the gift that keeps on giving. 
> 
> P.S. Please forgive me for any poor interpretations of English holiday customs.


End file.
